Eternity Of Suffering
by Jada Flame
Summary: PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!!!!! Oh, wait you haven't read the story yet. Um, summary... Koushiro sees something that tortures him. There is really, REALLY slight Mimato, but you will forget about it in the next sentence. PG-13 just to be safe.


AN: PLEASE DO NOT FLAME ME!!!! I needed a story idea, and I was walking down the hall when this one hit me in the head. (See end note for more.) And now the story. But first...  
  
SHAMELESS ADVERTISING!!!!  
I have just posted the second to last chapter (finally) to my story, Finding The Way Back, if anybody out there cares. My reviews say it's a good story!! *becomes panicky* I'm serious!!! *begins hyperventilating* PLEASE READ IIIIIIIIIIIT!!!! *suddenly becomes calm* Okay, now that that's over with, on to the fic!!!!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Eternity Of Suffering  
  
  
  
  
  
I hate him.  
The boy with the blond hair, and the tough image. They think he's one of them, a kid who happens to need space from everybody.  
They don't know.  
I don't suppose there's any reason to really hate him. But I've always been jealous.  
He can go off alone, not talk to anyone, and no one cares. "He's a rebel," they say. "Rebels do that."  
What about me? I'm younger, I'm not a "rebel", I don't have a tough image to live up to. I isolate myself, and they say, "Look at the computer nerd. Just types all day. What an anti-social freak."  
Anti-social for me, rebel for him. Why does life have to be so unfair?  
And so I went through life watching him from the shadows. I acted, pretending every day that he was my friend, someone I could talk and laugh with, like everybody else.  
  
Then one night I saw it.  
They were sleeping, everyone except me. I couldn't. Random thoughts swirled though my head, and I had just glimpsed what I thought was an answer as to why we were sent to the digital world when I saw two shadows slipping into the trees. Not wanting to wake anyone else, I followed.  
What I saw will haunt me forever.  
I trailed the shadows to a river. They sat down and the moonlight glanced across their faces. It was Mimi and HIM.  
Mimi turned to her companion.  
"Yamato, I really don't think we should be sneaking off like this every night. What if someone sees us?"  
HE answered. "What? Is there a problem, Mimi?" Anger dripped from his tone.  
She flinched. "No, I... Look, Yamato, I like you and all, but I'm not comfortable with all this sneaking off. I'm sorry to say this, but..." Her voice faltered.  
"What? If you have something to say, you spit it out."  
"I... I don't think we're going to work out, we should just drop the relationship and find someone else!" At this point she was crying.  
His next words were inaudible to me, but she flinched and tried to scramble away.  
He raised his hand, brought it down sharply, burning the image of Mimi's head snapping back, a welt across her face, into my mind forever.   
I turned away, saw him grab a branch, heard her screams as I ran, ran away from the scene, ran back to camp, back to the safety of my laptop and the virtual world.  
  
They found Mimi's body the next day, pummeled and bruised, floating in the shallows at the foot of the waterfall downstream. They assumed she went for a drink in the night and slipped on the rocks.  
If only they knew.   
I saw HIM lurking on the other side of the simple grave during the memorial.  
He watched me and I could see he knew I was there that night.  
The look he gave me sent me into this eternal world of suffering, drove me to this state of paranoia, forcing me to accept guard duty only if someone else was with me, just so I would be safe.  
They all say its just trauma from her death and I'll eventually get over it.  
Does trauma force you to lay awake at night, unable to sleep from fear?  
Does trauma force you to keep bottled within you a secret that will make you go mad if you don't tell it? A secret you can't tell because no one will believe you? A secret that will kill you if no one believes it?  
And so I am forced to bear the torment forever, memories of a hand descending, a hand raising a stick.  
Memories of a voice screaming, pleading for my help, trying to drag me back to the river.  
Sometimes I wonder if it would not be better to tell, and have him end my torment when no one believes.  
But what if they do believe?  
If I tell them, and they believe, will the guilt leave me?  
If I tell, will it stop the screams?  
  
Fin  
  
  
AN: PUH-LEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZE DON'T FLAME ME!!!!! I DIDN'T WANT TO WRITE THIS!!!!! I DIDN'T MEAN TO MAKE MIMI DIE!!! I DIDN'T MEAN FOR MATT TO BE THE BAD GUY!!!! THE LITTLE PSYCHOTIC CHEESES IN MY HEAD MADE ME DO IT!! I SWEAR!!!!!!  



End file.
